


Own Your Desire

by ImLuvinMyThesaurus



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Confrontations, Desire, F/M, Humor, Internal Monologue, Sexy Monroe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImLuvinMyThesaurus/pseuds/ImLuvinMyThesaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You slept with a boy Charlotte, not a man, and they are definitely not the same thing."  Monroe finally corners Charlie and  confronts her about sleeping with his son.  His reaction however, is not at all what she is expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Own Your Desire

**Author's Note:**

> So, remember me? *waves* I used to write the occasional story for 'Revolution' back in the day. Sorry I disappeared! The direction the show took and its cancellation messed with my creativity for months. But I'm hoping I can get back into posting again, although I'm feeling a little rusty, so we'll see how this one goes! There's a bit of humorous nano just in the background and it's all from Charlie's POV.
> 
> I usually tend to ignore Connor in my fanfic, but it worked in this instance to use him as a means to a Charloe end. And Bass was feeling quite sexy -- I hope you all enjoy it!

She was surrounded by screwed up people. And she was _leading_ them.

It was a headache of weirdness.

Miles and her mother were missing, Aaron was making time with the Nano, Neville was possessed and talking to thin air, and Jason was acting like a damn dog, growling as he kept trying to bite through the ropes tying him to a tree. Priscilla was cheerfully picking wildflowers, Gene was off trying to make up with his erstwhile girlfriend, groups of freaks kept showing up out of the blue, and Charlie was stuck with all of it, including an eerily calm Monroe.

He kept watching her, something dark in his eyes that made her shiver.

Shoving that aside for now, lest it take her down a dangerous road she just didn't have time for, she reassessed her situation. It only took her about 15 seconds to decide that _yes_ , things were completely fucked.

And if she was really going to be honest, she was stuck with _both_ Monroes. With all the inherent tension and confusion riddling the air between the three of them, making things awkward. It wasn't just them feeling it though. Their group of fighters -- followers? -- eyed them oddly, which was a feat of irony for them. Luckily it made most of them keep their distance, so Charlie was thankful for small miracles. After all, it wasn't just her family and friends anymore. Oh no, that would be too simple. Instead, she had an odd mixture of farmers, prostitutes, Nevilles, war-clan members, former militia soldiers, and a very grumpy Ed Truman waiting for orders. From her.

_Fuck._

Where was her family? Why did she have to babysit Monroe men and the circus-of-weird? Why did she have to be the decision-maker?

Because of Monroe. Everything was about that man. And Miles. Or her mother. Between the three of them, they'd turned the world upside down, and three days ago had made the imbecilic management decision to leave her temporarily in charge. Of the nano-misfits.

_Old people are nuts._

Charlie thought she knew why Miles and her mother wanted her to lead, _maybe_ , but Monroe had supported the notion as well. Was he just trying to mess with his son?

Biting her lip, Charlie shrugged. Yeah, he was twisted enough for it.

It wasn't like the situation was strange and annoying, she thought sarcastically. Here she was stuck with a grouping of the most bizarre people she'd ever seen and the turbulent relationship of a father-son duo who at turns tried to kill, save or whip each other, depending on a given situation.

Charlie knew she hadn't really contributed to familial harmony, screwing Connor on a whim while trying to forget his father.

No.

She wasn't going there.

Looking towards the two men in question, Charlie watched the older Monroe sharpen his knife, eyes getting lost on the tendons moving in his sculpted forearms as he worked. Her eyes trailed to his face, memorizing the features and cataloging his placid concentration, recognizing it for the pretense it was. She knew he was totally aware of their rather eccentric guests, in tune with his surroundings, ready for a hint of trouble, whether it came from within their camp or from an outside threat. He drew her interest viscerally and Charlie still didn't know what to do about it. Feeling her gaze on him, he glanced up and their eyes locked. They fell into it, completely focused on watching each other, until some wood from the campfire popped, and his attention wavered. His jaw flexed as he pointedly met her eyes again, before looking over at his son and then back at her, arching a sardonic eyebrow.

Heat crept into her cheeks and she was thankful it was dark enough he wouldn't be able to catch her flush at this distance. They hadn't really had a chance to discuss what had happened. Charlie knew he wanted to ask her about it, but thus far, there hadn't been a chance, and he was stuck biding his time. She couldn't guess how the confrontation would go, if he'd explode or be calm. Or walk away.

She didn't know which would be worse. Or why she even felt the need to explain in the first place.

Eyes traveling to take her mind off _him_ , she located Connor, only to find he was already watching her with a mixture of anger and lust. She quickly glanced away, figuring it was better not to give the boy any ideas or throw kerosene on the proverbial flame, further antagonizing the relationship between father and son.

Things were awful enough.

Needing to clear her head and desirous of some space, she walked away from the campfire, heading towards a copse of trees. They had stopped for the evening near a small river. After several days of hard trekking and brutal fighting, their group was beyond exhausted. Charlie was antsy about finding her family, eager to turn over the mantle of leader-of-the-freaks to her uncle and mother.

Constantly surrounded by strange people and the even stranger dynamic between Monroe and his kid were taking its toll. Before New Vegas, she and Monroe had forged an interesting partnership, the beginnings of trust forming. But after...

Screwing Connor had been such a mistake. She knew that now. What was it Maggie always said? Something about hindsight creating perfect vision?

She still felt a twinge when she remembered Monroe's reaction upon finding them. Charlie hadn't expected him to be so upset, but he'd barely been able to look her full in the eyes afterwards. They'd been growing closer, fighting back-to-back, and she was pretty sure she'd ruined whatever trust they'd managed to build in that field outside New Vegas. It felt like she'd lost something.

And until further notice, she was stuck working with the man. Constantly. Without any family she could use as a barrier between them.

Charlie needed to get away from them all for a breather.

A short distance from camp, Charlie came to a stop, staring at the slow moving river. It was little more than a stream, but she could use it to have a quick bath in the morning. She was dirty from the road, only able to clean up with a pail of water she'd shared with a creepily gleeful Priscilla earlier that evening. The heat and stress were making her perspire, dust sticking to her skin, ruining the effects of the earlier wash.

She was simply too exhausted to be bothered with it tonight, and there would be a whole list of things she'd have to do once she returned to their encampment.

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, enjoying the few minutes of peace she'd found, knowing at any moment she could be interrupted by the pack of crazies she was in charge of. Goddamn Ed Truman had wanted to strike up a conversation with her earlier, insisting she call him 'Eddie', before launching into a happy lecture about the importance of spark-plugs, of all things. What the hell was a spark-plug? Monroe had been laughing a safe distance away, offering no help... _bastard_...just taking pleasure in her being stuck and confused. She'd finally managed to beg off and Ed Truman, or rather 'Eddie', had been sulking ever since.

_Fucking Miles and her Mom. Fucking Nano._

Before she could contemplate it further, she heard footsteps coming towards her. At first Charlie made to hide, determined to have at least five minutes to herself, but she calmed after a few seconds, making no moves towards a weapon or a more secluded spot, instinctively recognizing Monroe's tread upon the earth. She decided rather magnanimously that he could join her. At least he was semi-sane. Most of the time.

Angling her head towards the trees, her eyes tracked his movement as he purposefully stalked towards her once he'd cleared the branches.

"We need to talk Charlotte," he said lowly.

She sighed, knowing what he wanted to discuss. She supposed it was inevitable that this subject would come up sooner or later, and tonight was the obvious choice, as it was the first time her family was absent AND they had a break from their devoted contingent of oddballs. But did it really have to be this moment? She was bone tired. Shaking her head, Charlie looked away from him, hoping he'd drop it. "Not that I can see."

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

"Yeah, in case you haven't noticed, we're a little busy."

He huffed humorlessly. "Thank your mother for the traveling sideshow when we find her."

"You went along with it," she stated, hotly, hating when he talked about her mother. Nothing good could ever come from that. Shaking her head, she got back to the matter at hand. "Does this have to happen right now?"

His mouth hooked enigmatically, saying nothing, the sound of the water and insects the only noise.

Charlie leaned wearily against a tree, waiting for it, knowing the stubborn ass wouldn't leave until he'd gotten whatever it was off his chest. "I have enough to handle right now with all of them," she jutted her thumb out behind her pointing at the campfire in the distance. "Just get it over with, so I can get back to camp and start planning for tomorrow."

He grimaced at her shortness, but gamely went for it nonetheless. "You fucked my son."

She swallowed at his bald phrasing, trying to figure out where he wanted to take this. She'd expected it, just...not that way. "Are you jealous Monroe?" Charlie asked, perking up a bit. Tired though she may be, she was still deeply interested in his answer.

Feral eyes glinted at her as he drew closer to her. "Why would I be jealous?"

She shrugged, trying to hide her searching eyes. "Why else would you be acting so odd about it? Still?"

His blue orbs moved from her to sweep their surroundings, always watchful for danger of any kind, before they pierced hers once more.

"The people back at camp are _odd_ , Charlotte. I'm simply determined. But to answer your question: no, I'm not jealous, there's no need to be," he grinned, walking a few steps away to bend over and grab a stone, tossing into the river with a dull thunk as it cut the water's surface.

She glared at him, tracking his movements, annoyed against her will.

"I'll admit it threw me at first, but not anymore. I've had time to mull it over, midst everything else." He contemplated the water, continuing after a few seconds. "You slept with a boy Charlotte, not a man, and they are definitely not the same thing," Monroe rasped, twisting around to flash his dimples.

Charlie bit her lip to temper her reaction at seeing his rare, devastating smile. She looked to the treeline, refusing to give him the satisfaction of inciting a response.

Drawing near her again, he surprised her by grabbing her chin and pulling it into the asymmetrical vee between thumb and forefinger. With a surprisingly gentle hold, Monroe tugged her face towards his. "And that's fine Charlotte, it is. You're an adult; you can screw around if you want. Just don't pretend to be satisfied with it, because you're not," he said arrogantly. He spoke over her when she tried to interrupt. "Connor obviously didn't do it for you, because you're still wound tighter than a bow-string. My slightest touch has you trembling and covered in goosebumps, me breathing into your mouth is making you shiver," he said, breath hot against her skin, eyes slowly moving down her frame, moonlight guiding his sight, finally whispering, "And your nipples are hard."

She blushed once more, eyes flitting to the side, embarrassed at her body reacting to him so blatantly. But she said nothing, did nothing to pull from his grasp. What could she say? He wasn't lying.

And she liked his hands on her too much to move away.

"I know this isn't a good time with all the nanite bull-shit, but in this life, it never will be. So yes Charlotte, this has to happen NOW," he said, referring to her earlier question. Sidling closer, Monroe wrapped his free arm around her waist, hand falling to the strip of skin above her low-slung trousers, fingers grazing gently, dipping below fabric before he drew a deep breath and spoke again. "Your body's reaction is beautiful," he grated out. "And it's mine."

Her gaze latched back onto his, eyes wide with shock.

"You fucked a boy instead of a man -- like I said, there's a difference." His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were flashing as he pulled her flush against his body, letting Charlie feel him fully aroused, pulsing into her stomach. He waited a few seconds, letting her absorb the contact and his desire for her, before he continued, voice sandpaper soft. "And when I'm buried inside you, making you scream, you'll know that difference for yourself."

She gasped, releasing a small whimper as she grew wet against her will, desire and indignation hitting her equally hard. Before she could examine the sensations more thoroughly, she registered him dipping his head.

His mouth settled over hers, gentle, and Charlie's breath rushed out of her nose, need sparking at that first contact. She shivered as his beard brushed her skin and there was an idle notion of faint surprise at his soft lips, before her thoughts blanked. Monroe pulled her lower lip between his, sucking on it sweetly and swiping it with his tongue. She sighed at the gesture and he took that opening to delve inside. He slid his tongue lazily against hers, and a stab of need lanced through her gut. She mewled quietly and twined her arms around his neck, causing him to groan into the kiss in response, fully enjoying the feel of her resting trustingly against him. The kiss only lasted a few seconds more, before he drew back from her. He held her for a few seconds as she caught her breath and got her balance back. She went to say something, but he simply smiled at her, those dimples sidetracking her. Nodding, an expression of supreme confidence crossing his face, Monroe turned and walked back to their campsite.

Charlie could only stare at his retreating form, stunned at the instinctual need she felt urging her to go after him. Anxiety swept her and she swallowed convulsively, fingers coming up to cover her lips. Only her pride kept her in place, and the knowledge that their traveling companions were too close for comfort. He'd made her forget all about their screwy group and she was pretty sure it was actually a good thing. She desperately needed something else on which to focus her energy. He'd managed to break through all the stress and worry.

His words may have been crass, but she couldn't brush them aside.

Because he was right.

Connor hadn't satisfied her. Trying to substitute one man for another had been an idiotic thing to do, but Charlie hadn't known any other way to bury the need she felt. She shouldn't want Monroe. Charlie had used Connor, and she felt a twinge of guilt about her actions. She'd figured screwing his son would quash any desire between them, that he wouldn't look at her with those lust-filled eyes again.

Obviously she couldn't have been more incorrect in her estimation of his reaction.

That wasn't to say he was happy about it. He wasn't. Monroe had just decided it wouldn't get in the way of this thing between them.

She knew what he wanted now; there had been an inkling before, sure, but nothing confirmed. He'd admitted to it, made his move. Everything was out in the open -- they both knew the attraction was mutual. Hers might be unvoiced, but he knew it just the same. This dark lust that connected the two of them had never been spoken of before, but he'd acknowledged it, opened it like a can of worms and called her on her feelings for him. And he'd gone one step further. Monroe knew what she had done and it didn't change the desire he had for her. He'd confronted her about sleeping with his son, being left unsatisfied, and clearing up any misconceptions she had that it would kill the desire between them.

Charlie's breath was ragged as she chewed her lip. He had been honest with her, and she'd just stood there. Granted, he hadn't really given her the chance to speak, saying his piece, kissing her passionately, and walking away. He'd left the ball in her court, letting her make the decision.

Sighing, Charlie knew she had to return to the fire. It was getting late and there were plans to be made. She'd have to bury this need and their conversation until another time. It couldn't be dealt with right now. They had to find Miles and her mother so they could deal with the weirdos.

But after that...

Maybe.

Charlie smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are wonderful...I'm addicted to them and I love hearing from you!


End file.
